Chapter 5 - THE EMBARRASSMENT AT THE BISTRO
By 1:00 PM, the news of Ethan’s sudden downfall had begun to circulate through the high-society circles of the city.
Ethan, desperate to project an image that everything was under control, had arranged a lunch meeting at Le Petit Bistro—an upscale restaurant where he frequently entertained corporate sponsors and local journalists. He had called his primary investor, Arthur Pendelton, begging for a emergency five-hundred-thousand-dollar bridge loan to "restructure his cash flow."
What Ethan didn't know was that I was sitting in a private, curtained booth directly across the dining room, accompanied by Marcus Vance and Deputy Miller.
Through the soft linen curtains, I watched Ethan walk into the restaurant.
He was wearing the same suit from yesterday, though he had clearly tried to iron out the wrinkles in his motel room. His eyes were red-rimmed, his hair plastered down with cheap gel, and his knuckles were white as he clutched a worn leather briefcase to his chest. Behind him lagged Denise, wearing oversized sunglasses to hide her swollen, un-rouged eyes, clutching a fake designer handbag.
Arthur Pendelton, a distinguished man in his late sixties with silver hair and a sharp tailored suit, sat at a corner table sipping an espresso.
"Arthur!" Ethan called out, putting on a forced, overly enthusiastic smile as he rushed over to the table. "Thank you so much for meeting me on short notice! You know how unpredictable the tech and hospitality markets can be!"
Pendelton didn't stand up. He didn't offer a handshake. He slowly set his espresso cup down on the saucer with a soft, cold clink.
"Sit down, Ethan," Pendelton said, his voice flat and devoid of warmth.
Ethan pulled out a chair for Denise, then sat down across from the senior investor. "Arthur, I'll cut straight to the chase. A minor administrative error with my trustee bank temporarily locked my primary operating accounts. I just need a quick five-hundred-thousand-dollar credit line for forty-eight hours until my legal team resolves the glitch—"
Pendelton held up a single hand, stopping Ethan mid-sentence.
He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a morning edition of the Financial Gazette, and laid it flat on the white tablecloth.
The front page headline read:
CHIEF EXECUTIVE OF THE VELVET APRON REMOVED AMIDST $1.2 MILLION EMBEZZLEMENT AUDIT; TRUSTEE TAKES FULL CONTROL.
Ethan’s jaw dropped open. His face turned from pale to an unsightly, mottled gray. "This... this is a tabloid rumor! It's a smear campaign started by my jealous ex-wife!"
"Your ex-wife?" Pendelton asked, leaning forward, his sharp eyes piercing through Ethan’s desperate lies. "Ethan, I spoke with Marcus Vance two hours ago. I also spoke with the Managing Director of Aegis Capital. Do you know what they told me?"
Ethan swallowed hard, unable to speak.
"They told me that every single dollar of capital used to launch The Velvet Apron came from the Sterling Family Trust," Pendelton stated loudly enough for two neighboring tables to hear. "They told me that you haven't paid a single supplier in two weeks, that your corporate credit lines are completely revoked, and that you forged your wife's signature on over six hundred thousand dollars worth of fraudulent checks."
Denise gasped behind her sunglasses. "That's a lie! My son is a brilliant businessman! Claire is just a bitter, crazy woman who—"
"Shut up, Denise!" Pendelton snapped, rounding on the older woman with absolute disdain. "Your son is a fraud! And you have been living like a parasite off a woman who was too kind to expose you!"
Pendelton stood up, adjusting his suit jacket. "The board of the Hospitality Alliance met at noon today, Ethan. Your membership has been permanently revoked. Furthermore, I am personally pulling my endorsement for your upcoming regional award nomination."
"Arthur, please!" Ethan whimpered, standing up and grabbing Pendelton’s sleeve. "I can fix this! Give me one week! I'll make Claire sign the release papers!"
Pendelton shoved Ethan’s hand away with disgust. "Touch me again, Ethan, and my security team will toss you into the street. You are finished in this town."
Pendelton turned and walked out of the restaurant, leaving Ethan standing in the middle of the crowded dining room, his face burning with absolute, soul-crushing humiliation.
Several patrons pulled out their phones, snapping photos of the disgraced restaurateur.
I pulled back the linen curtain of my booth, stepping out into the open dining room, dressed in a sharp ivory suit, looking relaxed, healthy, and radiant.
May you like
Ethan’s eyes locked onto mine. His mouth worked silently as he took two frantic steps toward me. "Claire... Claire, please..."
I looked at him with cool, absolute detachment. I didn't say a word. I simply offered him a faint, pitying smile, turned on my heel, and walked out into the warm afternoon sun.
